A/N: Hi, everyone, thanks for reading! This is my first CSI fic... in fact, it's the first time i've ever written anything that i've managed to finish, and the first thing i've written in ages. I really hope you enjoy it... It's rated M for some strong language and adult-ish situations (there's no smut, but it mentions some psychological issues), and is loosely based on something that happened to me a few years ago. I guess... review if you want to review, but please, please be nice! I'm incredibly nervous about this...

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Chapter 1: Okay?

Still clutching the gun, Stella stood between Hawkes and Flack, raising an eyebrow as she watched Mac walk away with his arm around Peyton. She could hear the boys chuckling beside her, and allowed her own small laugh to escape her lips at Mac's "London!" tossed back over his shoulder at them. She was glad to see him happy, glad to finally see smiles where for so long there had been frowns. It didn't matter that she hadn't been the one to put them there, she told herself again. It only mattered that they were there.

"Stella?" She turned to Flack, eyebrow still raised. "Are you OK?" he asked, relieving her of the gun and handing it to an officer standing near-by.

She sighed, and shrugged. Physically, she was fine, barely a scratch, but mentally, emotionally? That remained to be seen. The whole scenario had felt eerily close to her situation with Frankie: trapped, with no weapon, and little means of escape. True, Mac and Hawkes had been with her this time, but the odds had been very bad with as well armed as those guys had been. It was either pure luck or a simple miracle or both that they'd all gotten out mostly unscathed – a few scratches and just a little bit wet. Grimacing, Stella realized that she was still soaked, clothes plastered to her body, hair hanging limp around her face.

Lost in thought, she'd forgotten Hawkes and Flack were still standing there, Flack still waiting on an answer to his question. As the silence stretched, Flack and Hawkes exchanged a look, and Hawkes came around to stand next to Flack in front of Stella.

Sheldon reached out, putting a hand on Stella's damp shoulder. She jerked at the touch, suddenly aware that she hadn't answered Don's question. Looking up, she saw matching concern in the sets of eyes studying her: Don's brilliant blues and Sheldon's amazing dark chocolate pair. Smiling self-consciously, she shrugged again.

"Yeah, guys, I'll be fine. I need a hot shower, dry clothes, and 14 hours of uninterrupted sleep, with maybe a hot meal thrown in there if I have the energy for it, but I'll be fine."

Flack sighed, knowing that most of that was going to have to wait. "Stella… there's something… that you should know. At the warehouse…" Flack trailed off uncertainly, exchanging a glance with Sheldon.

"What, Don? What about the warehouse? Adam and Danny were there processing, right?" Stella was on the verge of panicking, especially after seeing the look, and Don's obvious hesitation.

"Yeah, but…" Flack hesitated and glanced at Hawkes again. Just like ripping off a band-aid, he told himself. The fast he spit it out, the better. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Well… they took Adam hostage and had tortured him before Danny got there…"

"WHAT?!" Stella shouted, panic sliding into shock and anger, thinking, could this day get any worse?

Flack winced, looking at Hawkes yet again. Both of them knowing that she really wasn't going to like the next part, Sheldon moved to stand next to her, the hand that had been on her shoulder sliding down to her waist. Nodding at Hawkes' shift, Flack continued. "Yeah…. And there's more. Adam… well, he couldn't warn Danny in time and so Danny got conked on the head. Then, they caught him trying to send a text message, and smashed his phone and his hand." Flinching at Stella's gasp, Flack rushed on. "And… well, then, Danny used himself as a distraction so that Adam could get the acid out of his kit. They… well, they beat the shit out of him, to be blunt. Both Danny and Adam are on their way to the hospital. Lindsay's with them." Flack rushed the last bit out, and watched Stella anxiously for her reaction. Stella's shoulders had visibly slumped, and each word had seemed to hit her like a blow until she appeared hunched and almost old. Hawkes silently slid his arm the rest of the way around her waist and urged her closer, silently offering the support she seemed to need, but rarely accepted. Gratefully, she leaned into him, laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"Does Mac know?" she asked quietly.

"He didn't exactly gimme a change to tell him," Flack pointed out, a bite in his voice.

Stella nodded, still accepting the offered support, and rubbed a hand over her forehead and eyes. Looks like dry clothes, dinner, and the sleep will have to wait, she told herself. "Alright. If he calls and asks, go ahead and tell him. If he doesn't ask, please don't say anything. I'll break the news to him later. He deserves this vacation and if he knows about Danny and Adam, he won't go. I don't want to stress him out any more." All three of them knew that Mac must have been really distracted not to have asked about the others, but as far as he knew there was no reason for him to ask. "I'm going to go see if there's a dry coverall in this building, then I'm heading to the hospital. You both should go home and shower, change, whatever; then, if you want, come to the hospital. Ok?"

Hawkes and Flack nodded, though Flack disagreed. Privately, he was pissed that Mac would take off without helping Stella, without even thinking to ask about Danny and Adam. Stella straightened up, gave them both a weak smile, then walked off to begin her quest for dry clothing.

Both men watched her go. "Somethin' about her seem… not right to you, Doc?" Flack asked Sheldon bluntly.

Sighing, Sheldon rubbed his own forehead and eyes. "Yeah," he said in his quiet voice. "She's… fragile, brittle. I could feel it in her body, even though she was trying to hide it. And when have you known her to accept physical comfort and support?" Hawkes shook his head, voice sharpening uncharacteristically. "Damn Mac for leaving her with this! Did he even think about what clean-up would entail?!"

Flack looked at Hawkes, surprised to hear his private thoughts spoken aloud. "Yeah, real nice of him to leave her with his mess while he goes trotting off to London to play with Peyton," he answered sarcastically. Stella had had a hard enough time this year without having to handle this all on her own. Between worrying about Lindsay's trial, grieving Aidan, and her own HIV scare, Stella did not need any more stress. At least, that was Flack's opinion. She was just beginning to seem herself again consistently after that whole Frankie debacle, too. Flack sighed. "Think she'll hold?"

They watched the door to the stairwell close behind her. Hawkes looked at Flack, considering. "Hard to say," he said quietly. "She's strong, but even Stella has to have a breaking point that can't be far off."

Flack nodded, in complete agreement. "Since Mac's abandoned her for the moment, let's make sure that we're there to help put her back together when she does break, eh?"

Sheldon was already nodding. "Definitely."